Anarchy Mechanic
by Tekurumoto
Summary: In a world, where The Wonders of the Forums wasn't so bad, and James Garames as actually a threatening foe... At the very least, our crew this time won't have to suffer the Tunnel of love floats. And Teku isn't humping Zen's leg at every chance... Image coming soon. Decent chapters coming soon. Absolute bullcrap coming soon, too.
1. Logic?

It was a quiet night in the town. The streets were mostly empty throughout the maze-like pattern of the town. In the town outskirts, many people were in bed, or heading towards it. It was approximately 1 o'clock in the morning. However, in the town center, it wasn't as quiet. It was just the opposite, in fact.

One of the more wealthy members of the small town, Wally Charilus, was holding a party that night. He lived in an expensive looking mansion, four stories high, neatly trimmed front lawn, and a massive interior entrance hall. This, of course, was where all the party members gathered, the other wealthy citizens of the inner neighborhood invited. The pavement of the streets in-front of the mansion, were rather clogged up, due to all the visitors, and their shiny, air polluting sports cars.

Charilus was discussing some business affairs with another wealthy entrepreneur and his wife, enjoying one of the cocktail drinks being passed around by the maids of the mansion. Around them, many of the other party attenders were partaking in a similar action, or a few others could be seen dancing with their partners. The music was a fairly calm jazz, unlike what much of the popular radio has become.

Everyone was in either a formal business suit or dress, never taking too much of a care of anything. Their movements were all professional like. A teenager could almost vomit at the site. But to Charilus, it was a perfect environment. Well, nearly perfect. More money would never hurt anyone. The taxes were painful, however...

The party went on for a few more hours. Half of the guests by this point have left, wishing to to get home and sleep, and attempt to avoid to dreadful of a hangover the next morning. The couple that Charilus was discussing with have already left as well, accepting a deal involving reduced prices in shipping prices to the town.

A young looking man, probably in his early 20's, stepped onto the makeshift stage, where musicians previously were playing live music. He wore a dark green, but shiny, possibly an emerald colored business suit, the necktie a pale blue. His hair was a light brown, spiked up and pointed back. Over his left eye, was what seemed to be a scar, however, the brightness of the red hinted it was likely just drawn on his face with a marker. His right eye was a darker shade of green than his left. The male wore an almost ridiculous grin on his face.

He tapped the mice on stage roughly, causing a screeching sound to fill the room. A few of the guests, sleeping on a few seats by the wall, shot up, having been woken up from the sharp sound in their ears. By this point, just about everyone had their attention to the man on the stage. The green-clad male, in turn, swaggered a finger at the crowd, before speaking into the mic.

"Oh, guys, I have an idea." He paused, thinking for a moment, then spoke again. "But first, my name is James Garames. I am the supreme and intellectual leader of the Games Group. Upon finding an invite to this party in the garbage can in my neighbor's lawn, I thought I would prove to be a splendid opportunity to visit all of you reach people. And I asn't disappointed."

James paused again, seeming to be speaking through an earpiece to some unknown operation. Wally Charilus, having recovered from the shock of the sound and Deus Ex Machina displayed, quickly dogtrotted to the front of the stage, in an a panicked fashion, swung both his arms up and down, exclaiming to the other male.

"What is the meaning of this? What do you have planned?!" As Charilus stared at James, James looked down, his grin broadening, and then spoke into the mic again.

"You'll see." After having said this, a gas chloroform erupted from the stage, filling the room. Almost immediately, people began to pass out. By morning, everyone had woken up, to find all of their expensive jewelry, phones, and even clothing taken from them. Them men in their boxers and boxer shorts, and women in their panty and bra sets. An entire wall panel of the mansion was gone, exposing the room to the raw light and air of the outside world sunrise.

Wally had walked around in circles, in shocked at the event. He approached the gaping hole in the mansion, falling to his knees, staring out at the rising sun.

"Jesus..."


	2. Mission?

"This has been the latest in a series of high-middle class home raids conducted by the self proclaimed 'Games Group'. This issue, due to the type of events that happen within the homes, are not known widespread, many claiming it to be a hoax because of how unbelievable it is. However, the large scale amout of reports within the designated area calls for at the very least, a specialized search team to investigate the incidents."

The Special Forces directer was in the middle of a meeting, giving descriptions about recent events. The room was fairly small, a box containing five people. Four of whom, sat at foldable chairs. The director, standing up, faced these agents. Behind him, was a white board with various photographs posted up, containing images of various scenes, each seeming to be related.

"We are not aware at this time, if this group as any relation with Grandy Gang that we've taken out last month, nor if there is anyone else like James Garames within the organization. We can confirm, however, that the Game Group is a widespread home invasion and drug trafficking gang, and that Garames is indeed leader of the visible group. Are there any questions, before your mission assignments are handed out?"

The directer looked over the four agents, folding his arms behind his back. Oe of the three male agents in the front fow chairs straightened from a slumped back positon, and placed a hand on his lap. He looked young, probably around 19. His hair was fairly short, and like the other three agents, was black. He had heavy, slightly baggy dark blue pants, and a typical white button-up shirt with a black necktie. Over this, he had a dark blue, calf-length overcoat. It was open at the front, with several pockets and belt with rings to attach utility tools. His entire composure was intimidating, however, with his aggressive outward atitude, his teeth appearing sharper than normal, and angry looking gray eyes.

"And why do we have to clean up this mess? Couldn't the, uh, police force take care of this?" As the military uniformed male asked this, the agent seated behind him fake-coughed. The agent, assumptively, male, had his face hidden behind a gray-face mask. The mask covered his entire face, except for the eys, which appeared dark brown. His black hair was much longer than the young agent, the back tied back in a ponytail. He also wore an off-shoulder jacket, his arms currently held crossed. Most noticeably, however, was the shiny silver metal armor gloves on his hands, resembling night armor.

"Well, Zen, by the last event that took place, seemed to have slipped by security too easily. I think it's safe to assume he has supernatural luck?"

"Hmm." The young male known as Zen leaned back in his chair, glancing back up towards the director. The director then nodded, turning his body, and flipped over a page on the clipboard.

"Widum is correct. James Garames appears to be much like the four of you, possessing a special attribute. While we cannot identify it precisely, by the events have have occurred thus far, we figure it's safe to say that he has higher luck, or maybe reality manipulation powers. Mind control may also be a possibility, but the chances of that seem slightly less reasonable."

The director then pulled out sheets of paper, and walked towards the space between the chairs, and handed out files to the four agents. A hooded female, seated to the side of Widum, simply glanced over the paper, before crumpling it up, and tossing it to the side. Her eyes were of a neon green, making them visible easily from the red jacket. Outside of her hooded figure, there wasn't much towards her appearance that was known side from her jeans and clump of black hair peaking through the hood, with a hair clip.

The final agent, to the side of Zen in the front row of chairs, silently snorted at the females actions. His hair was slightly cleaner shape than Zen's, possibly a little longer. He attire consisted of a general black business suit, minus the necktie, portions of it ruffled slightly. His eyes, which were scanning over the paperwork, were a pale red. His face was unshaven, stubble present on his chin. He'd appear friendly if he wasn't in a foul mood. He coughed to catch the director's attention.

"Yes, Ian?" Calmly, but with an air of aggravation, Ian set down the paper to a side desk to his seat, and stood up, and pushed off the top of his right leg as he did.

"When should we send out for the mission?"

"Later this evening, but it's understandable if you need time to prepare for this mission and postpone until tomorrow. Zen and Widum will be sent to ' mansion to investigate the damages, while you and Riona will go around questioning the other victims."

At this, the director dismissed the agents. Ian scowled, turning his head and glanced towards the woman behind him. In turn, Riona looked up at him, and stuck out her tongue. Zen looked half bored to death, after such short a time. With his own paperwork sheet, he crumpled it up, and tossed it at Ian's head, who then sighed. Zen sat up straight, and stretched his arms up.

"Alright, what do you guys want to do?" Widum pushed his seat backwards, and stood up. Re readjusted the off-shoulder jacket, and tucked the paperwork in an inside pocket. As he started stepping away, he turned back to Zen.

"I'll be spending the night researching on this 'Games Group'. The name is awfully familiar. Zen, I'm going to need to barrow that book I lent you the other week." Zen grunted, nodding, and stood up as well, turning to Ian and Riona.

"By the way guys, I don't suggest going out to the bar again bar tonight. We don't want another mess." Zen smirked at the scowl Ian gave, who pinched his nose. Ian then rolled the paperwork he was given into a cylinder, and slammed it into zens forehead.


	3. Confrontation?

Sighing, the male removed his arms from the sleeves of his long military jacket. Zen kept his home at a low light, a single bulb illuminating the entire floor of the building. The male rested down onto a couch within the living room area. Rubbing his head, he made a soft groan. The slap in the face from Ian's paper left a bruise.

For several more minutes, Zen rested in his sitting position. While there was no fieldwork done today, the subject was strange, and somewhat stressing. He was hoping he'd have a light enough workload to get to some of his hobbies. However, this case wasn't going to be one of those let-off ones.

Him and his teammates, Widum, Riona, and Ian, were part of a special unit to deal with obscure, but serious cases. Most of the time, the criminals they dealt with were easy catch, or powerless people. These were usually large drug rings with highly advanced technology to hide themselves, or take out snooping police.

However, there were the occasional instances, where they were involved with criminals who were like them, or in other words, had abilities. Each person, if they were gifted with these powers, had their own unique ability and reason for using them. Powers were graded as a Physical, Elemental, or Vector. Zen, himself, was an Elemental.

Again, Zen groan, turning his head over. he then leaned forward his body from the backwards slant it was originally in, remembering that Widum requested for a book back. Zen had borrowed a few books over the years from Widum, whom seemed to have a large stock of information. The book in question, if Zen could remember right, was a diary or report of some sorts, by someone dealing with underground gangs. He hadn't finished the book yet, but it wasn't one that had caught Zens attention particularly.

The male finally stood up, with a yawn, and headed towards the stairs, and moved up towards the upper level, where his personal room and storage of items was. When he got to his nightstand, where Zen thought he last left the book, he frowned. It wasn't there. He pulled up the drawer, but as expected, it was too filled to store a large book. He turned, and slammed open the closet. neat and organized boxes with coat-hangers, but no-where where he'd store a book.

Zen scowled, pausing to think for a moment. Now, sometimes, he knew he'd be a messy person, but for the most part, he'd at atleast know how to treat a book right. It wasn't like he ravaged his room all the time, and choose the most obscure location to place an item. However, before he could do anything else, Zen felt a slight chill up his spine, causing him to quickly turn.

Nothing. It was simply the space of his room. Just as he left it while digging for the book. It was an odd feeling, though. Zen could have sworn, that someone was watching him. Even still ,watching him right now. It wasn't something the male liked. Especially now, as he was unarmed at the time, an overly aggressive intruder would be a dangerous fight.

Sighing, the male stepped out of the closet. He might have to ask Widm to look around at his own place. The book was most definitely not anywhere in Zen's room. But there... The chill came up again. This time, stronger. Before Zen could react fully, a man in a green business suit walked passed Zen, seemingly out of the closet. Zen, surprised to be almost shocked to stiffness, immediately knew of the man, who was now several feet infront of Zen, and turned around, with a broad smile.

James Garames.

Zen exhaled heavily, slowly raising his fists. Garames showed no signs of aggression. Zen looked over the other male, for a possible weakpoint for a quick subdue. There were no obvious weapons, however, in Garames' left hand, held a book. The book Zen was looking for. Opening his lips to call out at Garames, he was inturrupted by James promtly speaking up.

"Oh, hello, Zen. I hope you don't mind, I came for a quick visit earlier. You've forgotten to lock your door when you left for work this morning, to coming in was easy."

...

For a moment, Zen remained silent, staring at the other male, his right eye twitching. He never forgets to lock his door. _Never._ Just what kind of freak of nature was Garames?

"The fu-" Once again, Zen was interrupted by James, who raised the hand with the book in it. His smile somehow broadened, more so than before, his eyes seemingly to become, 'meaner'.

"No need to use such language, Zen! You could possibly offend someone that way. But back on topic... while I was here waiting your arrival, I found this interesting-looking book. If you'll be so kind to let me barrow it, it should make a pleasing read."

"...Where the hell were you?!"

"Oh, I was just following behind you. I wasn't wanting to disturb your apparent... heated search, so I decided to watch from a safe location, right behind you!" Had this not been a serious intrusion of his home, Zen would have face-palmed. However, at this time, he was more worried about the other male.

As Garames waved the book slightly, sideways infront of Zen, the specialized unit officer clenched his right fist. _I'll be sure to make this quick..._ He thought. He felt his own fist begin to harden and stiffen, the muscles themselves strengthening, and slightly bulging. en's tensing was noticed by James, however, who frowned.

"Come now, I'm beginning to feel like you don't like me... Fine. I'll just tell you this; don't get in my way. Not so nice things will happen to you, and your friends-I was listening to that little meeting of yours, by placing a cup to the wall. You need better security." Once Garames finished, Zen's fist made a flash, himself launching forward, yelling.

As Zen's sudden attack was about to connect, James smirked. Almost as if everything else went into slow-motion, the intruder stepped back, and sideways, Zen's attack completely missing, the male stumbling and struggled to regained balance. James then jumped upwards, onto zen's back, jumping again, this time through the window.

The glass of the window promptly shattered, Garames going through and falling down from the 2nd story height. Zen quickly regained his balance, turning upright, and dashed to the broken window. In the 2 seconds since Garames' leap, he was gone. Zen sweatdropped.

"The hell..."


End file.
